Roses Have Thorns
by Betsy
Summary: Mimi and Izzy meet on a plane fifteen years after a devastating fight. R/R, please.


Roses Have Thorns  


  
Disclaimer: Netiogations with Bandai, Toei, etc., have failed. As of the upload date, I do not own Digimon and do not expect to ever own it. The reasons netiogations failed was because I had no money to buy them out. Therefore, I won't be able to give you any money if you sue.  
AN: The age 13 POVs are not, I repeat are not, meant as flashbacks. They are a parallel story that just happens to be part of Mimi and Izzy's pasts.  
**  
Izzy, age 28**  
  
I waited in the busy airport lobby for my flight to be called. I was in New York City on a business trip, but I wanted to return home to Tokyo as quickly as possible. The only conceivable reason for me to want to be here (aside from business) would be to see an old friend, Tachikawa Mimi. When I looked her up I couldn't find her. Apparently her number was unlisted. That made sense; although not that major a fashion designer, that was only comparatively; she was still quite famous. Oh well. I hadn't wanted to see her that much. When someone has broken your heart, you tend not to seek them out.  
  
**Izzy, age 13**  
  
Thirteen years old. Seventh grade. Not an age when kids are expected to start their careers. But my entire life has been focused on exceeding expectations. So I started to work then, though just a little, on the side. It wasn't really work, though, just an extension of one of my hobbies.  
I designed and built computers of my own make. I'd done similar things for a while, of course. My first Pineapple started its life as a standard Wintel laptop, but I made some fairly major modifications and installed a new operating system that I had programmed myself. However, in seventh grade I realized how advanced my Pineapple was compared to the school computers. I thought that my school would gladly buy other Pineapples. First, a better computer is always an asset. Second, they'd want to support a student, right?  
As it turned out, I was wrong. The school was so under-budgeted that it could not afford to replace its aging computers. I therefore turned to the wider commercial market, where I had considerably more success. I had soon carved a small niche for myself as a maker of individually designed and built specialty computers that were expensive but well worth the price.  
  
**Mimi, age 28**  
  
Flight 4759, please begin boarding. Flight 4759, please begin boarding.  
The supposedly but flat voice of the announcer rang through the lobby. I obediently tucked the design I had been working on back into my purse, picked up my carry-ons, and advanced to the door with my ticket in hand. I got into the first class line, noting happily that not many people were in it. Possibly this would be a fairly uncrowded flight. Possibly. Of course, flights from New York to Chicago are usually pretty crowded, but I remained optimistic. There had been no announcements requesting that someone voluntarily bump him or herself. And first class is generally the least crowded.  
  
**Mimi, age 13**  
  
Izzy had been rather distant lately. I suppose that I should have been happy for him as he was making a whole lot of money, but he had almost no time for dates anymore between school and his new company, Pineapple Computing. I resolved to tell him so. The next day after school, I went to his apartment instead of my own. I walked in on him sitting in front of a computer working on a program. I stood behind his chair and said rather loudly, Izzy, we need to talk.  
What about, Mimi?  
You've been avoiding me lately, I accused.  
No, Mimi, I haven't. I just haven't had that much free time lately...  
Then make it! I retorted, trying to keep from yelling.  
he replied, still staring at his computer.  
I went over to the wall and pulled the plug, then watched in satisfaction as the light of the monitor died. He stood up and faced me. That was the latest version of Pineapple OS!  
I stalked out of his room, not bothering to shut the door, even in a slam. As I left, he was still muttering.  
Ten thousand lines of code... all gone.  
  
**Izzy, age 28**  
  
I walked onto the plane with everyone else. Once inside, I quickly found my seat: a middle seat not too far from the front of the plane. A woman came down the aisle, and stood next to me looking. Clearly, her seat assignment was the window seat of that same row. I squished in my legs to allow her to pass. Her hair was mousy-brown, with pinkish-red tints in the highlights. She looked vaugely familiar, and quite pretty. I wondered if I had ever met any of her relatives or something like that.  
  
**Izzy, age 13**  
  
I just stared at my computer dumbfounded for a while. Ten thousand lines of code, all gone. Several day's worth of work, destroyed in seconds. When I regained consciousness of my surroundings, I yelled, Mimi, wait!But it was too late. She had already left. I thought about what she had said, in lieu of talking to her. She was probably right. I had been spending a lot of time lately working on my computers. I probably should have been spending more time with her.  
I understood why she had done what she did. But whoever said, To understand all is to forgive all,was just plain wrong. I didn't forgive her. Ten thousand lines of code, all gone. Several day's worth of work, destroyed in seconds. Over a petty little fight.  
I debated apologizing. She had done a pretty bad thing, to be sure. But there was wrong on my side as well. I should have admitted that, paid attention. Then maybe I wouldn't have to start over on Pineapple OS version 3. I just didn't know. And if I did decide to apologize, should I do so now or wait?  
  
**Mimi, age 28**  
  
Who was this guy sitting next to me? I was sure I'd seen him somewhere. Reddish hair, black eyes, who did I know that fit that description? I stared at the plane ceiling, glad for this distraction from the monotony of the plane flight.  
Suddenly he spoke. Where are you going?he asked curiously.  
Well, to Chicago first, obviously, but eventually I'll wind up in Japan.  
That's where I'm going too. What a coincidence!  
Why are you going there?  
I live there; I just came to America for a business trip. You?  
I plan to visit some old friends of mine there. I haven't really seen them much since I moved to New York as a kid. If only he knew how I had seen them in the years between: hurried visits to the Digital World to fight, instead of the long relaxing trip I was planning now.  
  
**Mimi, age 13**  
  
I was regretting my hasty action already. I should have been more willing to talk and compromise, instead of pulling the plug on his computer. Now, that was really idiotic. He would have probably listened, if I hadn't done that. And now, instead of thinking it over and apologizing, he'd think it over and conclude that I was the one who needed to apologize. He'd probably be right. We both had done some wrong things. But I would wait for him to come to me. He started this whole thing; I merely escalated it.  
Mimi! Can you come here? called my mom. I stood up from where I was lounging on my bed and went to the main area of my family's apartment. Both my mom and dad were there, on the couch.  
We have something important to tell you, Mimi, said my dad. We're moving to America. Our plane leaves two days from now. You might want to start packing.  
Moving? Us? America? My thoughts were a jumbled whirl as I walked slowly back to my room. Why would we be moving? Oh, I knew that Dad's company was thinking about opening a branch in America, but I never stopped to think that we would need to relocate. Life's like that. You never stop to think about everything that might happen until it's too far after the fact and it's no longer a might. Or even if you do it never really hits you; it's all intellectual. Until it really comes, and then it gets you in the gut.  
  
**Izzy, age 28**  
  
Our plane landed. It was amazing that it had so quickly come from being my plane to our plane. It was incredible, not to be believed, that we had become such friends so quickly, though we'd never met before. Or had we? She did look distinctly familiar. Oh, why couldn't I remember? I have the Crest of Knowledge, yet I can't even remember such a simple fact. Ludicrous; I'd think it funny if this weren't so serious. _Lighten up, Izzy. This isn't nearly as major as you're making it out to be._  
As we walked out of the plane, still talking, she asked me what flight I was on next. They turned out to be the same. There was a gap of about two hours between the flights, so we decided to continue talking at one of the coffee shops at the airport.  
  
**Izzy, age 13**  
  
I decided to apologize the next day; I had had major problems in school just knowing that Mimi was shunning me. I pondered how. It was clear that she was so mad she would not accept just a simple apology.  
As I walked home, I passed Sora's flower shop. Of course! I would buy her a flower, show her how much she meant to me, even if I sometimes got so wrapped up in work I forgot everything else. So I walked in, said hi to Sora, and turned to the flowers. Most specifically the roses. I would get her a pink rose, since that was her favorite color. I reached out to one particually beautiful blossom.  
I exclaimed in sharp surprise. I had touched a particually sharp thorn. Was it really worth it to go to all this pain to apologize? It was partly Mimi's fault anyway. I walked out of the shop without buying anything and went home.  
  
**Mimi, age 28**  
  
At the coffee shop, I ordered a hot cocoa because I don't like caffeine, and I got a small slice of pound cake. We sat there and talked for a while. All that time, I wondered who in both worlds he could be. He must have been wondering the same thing, for he asked me:  
You know, all this time I've been thinking that I know you from somewhere. What's you're name?  
Tachikawa Mimi.  
He got this incredibly surprised look on his face, like he was about to spit his latte all over the table. Suddenly he got up and ran away. I was understandably a bit baffled by this behavior. Then I stopped and wondered. Reddish hair and black eyes. And he had been working on a Pineapple laptop during the flight. Could it be?  
  
**Mimi, age 13**  
  
I walked on to the plane to America, outwardly composed but inwardly crying my eyes out. He hadn't apologized. Of course, it was partly my fault. I should have swallowed my pride and apologized first. Matter of fact, he probably would have apologized then. But I was too shortsighted to realize that actions have reactions. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. If I had not pulled the computer cord, then this whole thing would not have happened. But I did, and now I had to face Izzy's reaction to my all-too-hasty action.  
  
**Izzy, age 28**  
  
I raced to the airport flower shop, hoping against hope that Mimi would not leave the table before I got back.When I got there, I hurried to the roses. Here, I stopped hurrying. I spent several minutes deciding which of the pink roses was the prettiest. This time when I reached to pick it up, I was careful. Roses, though beautiful, have thorns. They will hurt you if you're not careful with them. But if you get hurt by a rose, it's your own darn fault for not paying attention. Roses are a bit like Mimi, I guess. Maybe that's why her Digipartner was a flower.  
  
**Izzy, age 13**  
  
Why? Why had I been so caught up in what Mimi had done to me that I had not thought of what I had done to her? Oh, I thought about what she said, but it didn't really hit me until now. And in not apologizing, I had basically confirmed what she had said to me. Twice an idiot. And, as it always perversely is, I hadn't realized this until my lack of apology was irroevocable. Why did she have to move? Why so far?  
  
**Mimi, age 28**  
  
I continued to eat, unsure of what else I could do. If it were Izzy, then why had hee raced off? Had he still not forgiven me? I pondered these unsolvable dilemmas until he rushed back.  
Mimi? Oh, good, you're still here, he said, panting. He held out his had, and for the first time I noticed that it held a beautiful pink rose. Mimi, I'd like to say, after all these years, that I am truly sorry for what I did fifteen years ago.  
I reached out, but instead of taking the rose I instead held his clasped hands. Izzy, although I really should be the one to apologize, I accept yours. We stood there, not moving or speaking, just holding hands. That was all we needed to do.


End file.
